


Letting Go Is The Hardest Part

by ahopper84



Category: Hanson (Band), The Moffatts
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Slash, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-15
Updated: 2018-03-04
Packaged: 2018-09-24 17:57:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9777806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ahopper84/pseuds/ahopper84
Summary: Years ago, for a single weekend, four boys were young... happy... in love.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [DevilAngel](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/265190) by Aspen. 



> This is a continuation of/sequel to DevilAngel (which I did *not* write), a Hanson/moffatts fic from the early 00's. It had a *massive* following, and while I don't know if it was the first Scottay fic, it was certainly the most notorious. Sadly, like so many other hanfics of that era, it was left incomplete as the author moved on to different fandoms and projects. When I rediscovered Hanson in 2011 after a decade-long absence, DA was one of the first things I remembered, and in a way, acted as a gateway drug, pulling me back in. I'd always wondered - like so many others - what would've happened after Aspen stopped writing. And so I took it upon myself (for some ungodly, narcissistic reason) to tell the rest of the story. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it, and more. 
> 
> PS Aspen, wherever you are, thank you for being a source of inspiration for so many years.

_Taylor_

I exhaled slowly, letting the smoke trail from my lips, curling in front of me before being swept out the partially opened window. I hadn't meant to snap at Zac, really; I just needed some air. That's why I practically ran out of the studio, jumped in my car, and sped down the highway. Not because I was having flashbacks again.

_Of course not._

The sun was setting, the sky ablaze with red and orange, fading slowly to the purple twilight above. I wasn't supposed to be thinking about him; that part of my life was over, and had been for years now. Hell, I hadn't even heard from him since that last day, months before our second album was released. So then why did my mind keep drifting back, to that time, that place, so long ago?

I sighed heavily and pulled to the side of the deserted highway, tossing the now-spent cigarette out the window. I rubbed my eyes roughly, trying to wipe away the visions that threatened to block out everything else. Feeling too tired to fight, I let my head fall back, and for the first time in over a decade, relived the events of that fateful week.

Memories flooded my brain; they started off innocently enough. Two young boys, literally running into each other in an airport. Staying at the same hotel. Becoming instant friends. And then... I felt my eyes begin to well up, but didn't fight it. _Just gotta get through this, gotta let it pass. Then I can go back to normal._

The memories became more intense. Voices echoed in my ears.

> _Touch it._  
>                 I will.  
>  God, I love you, Tay.  
>                 I love you, too. 

Things had been so perfect at first. We'd been lost in our own little world of love and lust and discovery. And we never thought it would end. Until it did.

> _Don't act so afraid._  
>                 Sorry, I just - I can't -  
>  You **are** ashamed.  
>                 I guess I was just horny. 

The fight that, maybe, should have ended it all. But it didn't. He was so beautiful, and I was so damn weak. Maybe we both were.

> _I'm glad I found you, and you don't understand how deeply I care for you, but I just don't know if we can be together.  
>                 Taylor, it doesn't matter what we do and who we are, as long as we're together._

That was the last straw. My will broke, and I let out a pathetic sob. That had been towards the end; after the trouble had started, but before it got to its worst. It hadn't been long, though. But I didn't want to think about **that**. Remembering the good times was easy; well, maybe not easy, but sure as hell not as hard as thinking about what came after. And I wasn't sure I was ready to relive the nightmare just yet.

* * *

_Zac_

I knew what was wrong almost instantly. I don't know how I knew; call it a brother's intuition. I saw Tay get all distant and dreamy-eyed at first, but then depressed, and finally edgy and panicked, all in a matter of minutes. I tried asking him what was wrong (even though I already knew), but that just set him off. Isaac looked after Taylor as he stormed out, then turned to me, questioning; I just shrugged.

"He'll be fine; probably just needs to blow off some steam. I'm gonna go on the computer for a while." 

Isaac nodded, plucking his guitar strings gently, and I headed off to my office. After doing the usual routine of checking my email, facebook, myspace, twitter, and h.net, I poked around the web a bit; I was bored and restless. Taylor would be fine; it was a bit weird for him to think of _him_ after all this time, but I wasn't too worried. It would pass; it always did. Just when I was about to turn of my computer, an IM popped up.

 **BigD2000** : Hello?

I was tempted to ignore it; I didn't recognize the screen name, and figured it was probably a fan; how they got my personal screen name was beyond me, but not important. But within seconds, a couple more messages popped up.

 **BigD2000** : Zac, is this you?  
**BigD2000** : It's me, Dave

Dave... Big D... It couldn't be... My breath caught in my throat for a second, and I hesitantly replied.

 **XYZ1985** : Dave who?  
**BigD2000** : Moffatt

My mouth went dry; I felt my the blood drain from my face. _What the hell???_

 **XYZ1985** : um... hi  
**BigD2000** : hey  
**BigD2000** : i know its been a while, but... idk  
**BigD2000** : I thought about you the other day  
**XYZ1985** : yea... it's been what, eleven, twelve years?  
**BigD2000** : somethin like that

I didn't know what to say. What to think. This was weird; Tay has a random flashback of Scott, and now Dave's IM'ing me? Weird.

 **BigD2000** : how ya been?  
**XYZ1985** : oh, not bad  
**XYZ1985** : gettin ready to tour  
**XYZ1985** : our fifth album came out last year  
**BigD2000** : yea, i got it, it's really good

He bought our album? I felt myself blush a little, not knowing why.

 **XYZ1985** : how bout you?  
**BigD2000** : i'm ok. we... we split up the band. personal reasons...  
**BigD2000** : we all needed a break from each other **XYZ1985** : oh man, im sorry  
**BigD2000** : its kool, probly for the best  
**BigD2000** : we still keep in touch  
**BigD2000** : everyone's still doing music, one way or another  
**BigD2000** : I'm doin the DJ thing lately, at this bar in Calgary  
**XYZ1985** : sounds exciting  
**BigD2000** : not really, just hosting karaoke mostly  
**BigD2000** : i'm on vacation right now tho  
**XYZ1985** : anyplace fun?  
**BigD2000** : i dunno, is Tulsa fun?

Did he just say...

 **BigD2000** : I'm taking a road trip, and i just passed into Oklahoma yesterday  
**BigD2000** : I was kinda hoping, if you weren't busy...  
**XYZ1985** : where are you right now

I hadn't talked to him in years, hadn't even thought about him in longer than I could remember. It pained me to think about how close we'd been before, but somehow we'd just drifted apart. But now that I knew how close he was, I just had to see him again.

 **BigD2000** : the tulsa sheraton  
**XYZ1985** : be there in 15

Without waiting for a response I logged off and headed for the door, grabbing my coat and keys on the way. I wasn't sure what was going to happen, but after twelve years, I couldn't wait to see those big brown eyes.


	2. Chapter 2

_Dave_

I must have sat staring at my computer for an hour. An IM sat flashing on the screen, waiting to be sent. Was I really going to do this? After all this time, was I really going to drag all those emotions back to the surface? I took a deep, shaky breath. Yes. I had made my decision, and I was going to stick to it. Before I could change my mind, I clicked the 'send' button.

I waited for a minute, getting no response. Duh, I realized suddenly, he's not gonna answer a random IM from some unknown screenname. I shot off a couple more messages. Another minute went by. Just when I was about to give up, his reply popped up.

**XYZ1985** : Dave who?

I sent my response, and again waited, holding my breath.

**XYZ1985** : um... hi

I sighed with relief. I sent him another few IM's, and we started chatting back and forth. It was small talk, nothing more, but it was a start.

**XYZ1985** : anywhere fun?

Well, it was now or never...

**BigD2000** : i dunno, is Tulsa fun?

No response. I waited for a moment before continuing.

**BigD2000** : I'm taking a road trip, and i just passed into Oklahoma yesterday   
**BigD2000** : I was kinda hoping, if you weren't busy...

Oh god, what have I done? I was sure he would call me a freak, and a stalker, and he'd never-

**XYZ1985** : where are you right now

I blinked. A hopeful smile tugged at the corner of my mouth, and I told him what hotel I was staying at.

**XYZ1985** : be there in 15

Before I had time to process his response, he was offline. Wait, what just happened? I sat back in my chair. He didn't call me a stalker. He said he'd be here in fifteen minutes. He was coming to see me. Zac Hanson wanted to see me!

The joy bubbled up, and I launched myself onto the bed, burying my face in the pillows, trying to stifle a very un-manly squeal. I became aware of just how, well, gay I was acting, but I didn't care. Zac Hanson was on his way to see me.

I jumped up and ran to the mirror hung over the dresser, and took a good look at myself. My hair was a lot shorter than the last time I'd seen Zac. I surveyed my outfit: a black muscle tee, semi-snug ragged jeans, and a pair of black boots. Not too shabby. I laughed at myself. Chill out, dude, it's not like this is a date.

That simple thought was enough to send a shock of realization through me. It wasn't a date. Zac was coming over to hang out with a friend. Nothing more. I dropped onto the bed. I needed to be realistic; I couldn't expect anything from Zac. That week had been so crazy, so full of emotion, and confusion, and experimentation. But there had been feelings, too, hadn't there? 

I remembered those days, after the whole mess with our brothers had been over. We would talk on the phone, send each other emails and postcards, play games online. But it didn't last. Both of us were busy, so of course it was hard to find the time. And so the calls became less frequent, the emails shorter, until they just stopped coming. That was over ten years ago.

For Zac, it had been a phase. A bitter taste filled my mouth. Just a phase. That's what Dad tried to tell me; he'd been convinced that I would grow out of it, or could be cured if forced into enough dates. Eventually he gave up and got used to the idea, but he was never really comfortable with it. Hell, we hadn't talked in ages.

A knock on the door shook me from my thoughts. For a brief second, I thought of not answering, but I shook my head and laughed; I really was being silly. As I opened the door, I was greeted with the most beautiful sight I'd laid eyes on in a long time. Zac was standing there, smiling nervously, one hand in the pocket of his jeans. I looked him up and down, drinking him in; he was wearing a dark green shirt, baggy black jeans, and a black racer jacket. His hair was much shorter now, and brown. His hazel eyes stared into mine, and my chest tightened.

"You gonna let me in, or what?"

* * *

_Zac_

The first thing I saw as he opened the door were those big doe eyes I remembered so well. He had changed in subtle ways; he was taller than me, and his hair was shorter. He'd developed some fairly impressive muscles, shown off by the shirt he was wearing. I caught myself staring, and smirked at him.

"You gonna let me in, or what?"

I tried to sound calm; I sure as hell didn't feel it. He laughed nervously and stepped aside. As I brushed past him in the narrow corridor, I caught a whiff of his cologne. I closed my eyes for a moment, before shaking my head to clear my thoughts. After he shut the door, we stood there awkwardly. I laughed at myself and stepped forward, embracing him tightly; he laughed and returned the hug, before stepping back.

"Have a seat. Want a soda?"

"Sure, thanks." As he turned towards the fridge, I began to take my jacket off; I caught his gaze in the mirror, and held it as I finished peeling off the tight leather garment. I looked away first, shaking my head and smiling shyly.

"Here you go," he said softly, handing me a can of Dr. Pepper; our fingers brushed gently, but he didn't seem to notice. I sat down on the edge of the bed; Dave pulled the chair over and straddled it backwards. We silently sipped our drinks for a minute, avoiding each other's gaze. The tension was killing me. _Please, Dave, say something._

"So, you said you guys are going on tour soon?" Dave asked; I let out a breath and smiled, grateful that he broke the ice.

"Yea, we leave next month. We're starting in LA, then working our way to New York; we'll be gone a solid three months."

"Nice. I do kinda miss doing shows; the screaming crowds, the truck stops, the backstage antics." We both laughed, lost for a moment in our separate but shared memories.

"Yea, it should be fun. We're playing a lot of smaller venues. It's so much easier to connect with the crowd when there's only a couple hundred, versus a couple thousand."

"I'll bet. I gotta say, you guys are really in touch with your fans. The exclusive events, live streams, members-only EP's; no one else really does that stuff." Dave grinned at me and I nodded, but stopped when his words sunk in.

"Wait, you've seen our website?" I wasn't sure, but I thought Dave's cheeks turned a bit pink.

"I've checked it out once or twice. You have some really great ideas. Like streaming an entire concert, that was really cool."

I blinked.

"You watched that stream?" 

He nodded, and I thought for a moment. That was a members-only stream. Which meant Dave forked over the forty bucks to join the fan club. I felt my cheeks redden, and I looked down to pick at my jeans, but I couldn't wipe the smile off my face. Dave busied himself removing the tab from his soda can, his head resting on the back of the chair. He said something, but his voice was to low to hear.

"What was that?" I asked, looking up. He took a deep breath, and looked up at me; he was blushing hard, biting his lip nervously.

"I said, I missed you." His eyes conveyed joy and sadness, hope and resignation, all in one, and my heart faltered. I didn't know what to say. All I could do was hold his gaze. As I watched, his smile fell, and the joy faded from his eyes. _Say something, damn it!_

"I... I missed you too," I managed to finally say. He eyed me, the smirk returning to his lips.

"Really?" 

I nodded slowly. I did miss him. In what capacity, though, I wasn't sure. I felt like I was 15 again, sitting in a hotel bathroom, feeling excited, guilty, curious, scared, and - something else. There was too much emotion, too many grown-up feelings for a kid like me to deal with. So I had packed them all away, like a tangled ball of christmas lights buried in the closet. I snorted at my mental pun, and Dave shot me a quizzical look; I shook my head and drained the rest of my soda.

"Look, do you wanna get something to eat? I'm starved." It wasn't a lie. Sure, hunger may not have been the only reason my stomach was doing somersaults, but it was one of them.

"Sure thing. Know any place good?" 

"Are you kidding?" I laughed. "I know a place where 'good' is in the name." We grabbed our coats and headed out. There would be time to sort things out, and a full stomach never hurt. Well, almost never.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This first part of this chapter picks up exactly where the final chapter of DevilAngel left off.

_Taylor_

**Twelve Years Ago**

I watched as Scott kept nudging Zac, who was currently wrestling Dave on the floor. Finally my younger brother looked up at him.

"Did you bring him?" Scott asked, smiling shyly. Before Zac could answer, I stepped out of the shadows.

"He did." 

Scott turned around and beamed at me, and my heart melted, as it did every time I was rewarded with that smile. It was my smile; it belonged to me, and no one else.

"Great job," I commented on his show. All he could do was grin, and that was fine by me. I looked around carefully, and tugged him on the sleeve, urging him to follow me. Wordlessly we made our way through the crowd to the back of the theater, where no one would find us.

"Where are we-" 

My lips cut him off as I held him tight, clinging to him for dear life. We stepped clumsily backwards, leaning against the wall, his body pinning mine against the dusty bricks. In that moment I didn't care. Not that there was a crazy stalker following us. Not that we were risking both our careers. Not that the odds of us seeing each other after this week was over were slim at best. All I cared about was that he was mine, and I was his, and we were together.

"Tay. Tay, we gotta get back," Scott mumbled between kisses. I groaned and leaned my head on his shoulder, draping my arms around his waist. He wrapped his arms around my shoulders and kissed the top of my head, before stepping back.

"I know. I just..."

"I know, Tay. But we gotta go. Come on," he sighed, leading me back to the crowds, back to the real world. Back to where we could never really be just us, I thought as I swallowed back tears. When we emerged into the crowd we saw a lot of activity, people rushing around more than usual. I caught a glimpse of Isaac, and called out to him.

"Taylor! There you are! Dad! I found Tay!" Ike ran over to me, and I was quickly pulled into a rib-crushing hug.

"What's going on?" I looked up just in time to be passed from Ike to Dad, who hugged me briefly, before looking around.

"There was an incident at the hotel. One of the security guards was caught breaking into our room. They checked out his office; turns out he's been following us. He came here tonight, with a gun. We think he..." My dad stopped there, his eyes welling up, before hugging me tightly again. I felt nauseous; my hands were shaking, and I couldn't see straight. Dad must have noticed, because he began shaking me lightly.

"Tay? Taylor, it's okay. He can't hurt you. The cops arrested him before anything could happen," my dad explained. I blinked. This was unreal; stuff like this didn't really happen, at least not in any connection to me. Zac and Dave came running up just then, and my brother practically tackled me.

"You're okay! Oh, man, Tay, I was so worried! This guy came up through the crowds looking for you, and then the cops were here, and they were shooting, and..." Zac stopped, a few tears falling, before clinging to me again. Was it true? Was it really over, just like that? I looked around for Scott, and found him standing off to the side, talking to Dave. Part of me wanted to go to him, but I couldn't just dump my dad and brothers, especially after what could have...

Oh god. The realization hit me. He had a gun. What my dad had started to say... The psycho was going to kill me. I shoved away from my family and ran over to the trash bin that was thankfully nearby, just in time to empty my stomach. I felt someone holding my hair back, and as I turned my head, I was surprised to see it was Zac. I tried to thank him, but my stomach heaved again, and all I could do was ride it out.

**Present Day**

I sighed heavily, and tried to light the cigarette hanging from my lips; I had to hold the lighter in both hands, I was shaking so much. It hurt so bad to go through all these old feelings, but I knew I had to if I wanted to be able to go on. I'd done this before; I would be a wreck for a day or two, but then I would be able to bury everything again, and go on like nothing was wrong. I'd been doing it for over a decade. I just hoped I wouldn't have any nightmares tonight; the nightmares were the worst.

They had started not long after the premiere. Not every night, but at least a couple times a week. Sometimes they involved the stalker, gunning me down in a dark stairwell; others involved Scott rejecting me, telling me it meant nothing, just screwing around. But the worst, the most terrifying was the theater.

It would always start the same; I would be sitting in a crowded movie theater, waiting for the film to start. The screen would light up, but instead of a film, the projections were of the dreaded photographs. Not just the ones that were sent, but others as well; images of me and Scott in bed together that first night. In the sauna the following night. In the Hard Rock with Zac and Dave. Every intimate moment we had ever shared was there on display.

The crowd would be silent at first, but it never took long for it to start, the booing, the hissing, the foul comments. The noise would grow and grow, until it was nearly deafening. And then people would start throwing things; popcorn, soda cups, rotten produce. I would run up to the screen, trying to somehow block it out, before facing the crowd, tears streaming. And there, in the front row, my family. My entire family. Their facial expressions ranged from shock and horror to outright disgust. I would make my way to them, begging for comfort, but they would recoil, as if I was toxic. Even my mother. My own mother, weeping, would look at me as if I was the most foul thing to ever slither out of a septic tank, shrinking back from my touch.

Whenever I woke from the theater dream, my body would be drenched in sweat, tears flowing freely, and more often than not I would run to the bathroom to hurl. Most of the time I made it; sometimes I didn't.

* * *

_Scott_

I woke with a start, gulping for air. I was drenched in sweat, the sheets clinging to me like a disgusting second skin. God damn it, not again, I thought to myself. I thought I was done with this shit. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to block out the voices pounding in my head. Closing my eyes, however, was apparently not the best way to deal with it. I felt my stomach doing tell-tale flips, and struggled to get up. The sheets twisted around my legs, tripping me and sending me crashing to the floor. I had just enough time to reach the bathroom before emptying my stomach of last night's dinner.

When the dry heaves were over, I lay back on the cold tile, and waited for the tears. After the vomiting came the tears. I didn't try to fight them; I just had to let them run their course. I was used to it. I should be, after twelve years. _God damn it._


	4. Chapter 4

_Zac_

**Twelve Years Ago**

Somehow, I had convinced Dad to let me stay with the Moffatts tonight, in spite of the scare we'd had at the theater. I think telling him it would give Tay a bed to himself might have helped. But either way, here I was, sitting in the bathroom with Dave as he brushed his teeth. _What is it with us and bathrooms?_ I thought with a smirk.

"Well, they arrested the guy, so that should mean this is over, shouldn't it?" Dave asked after rinsing his mouth out.

"I guess so." I couldn't help watch his muscles flex as he moved. He was shirtless, again, clad only in a pair of grey sweats. I realized I was staring, but for some reason, this time I didn't care.

"So I guess things can go back to normal now." 

"Normal?" I heard myself say. What was normal? So much had changed in the past few days, that I couldn't remember what normal felt like. My brother Tay was gay. He was dating (I guess) another guy. And now, I wasn't sure about myself. I had touched another guy. I had let another guy touch me. And I enjoyed it. I was so confused, and so tired of it all. I sighed in frustration, earning me a piercing stare from a pair of warm brown eyes.

"What's wrong?" 

I shrugged. How could I possibly explain it? It was easier to just ignore it. But the way Dave was looking at me, it seemed like he really wanted, no, _needed_ to help. I stood up and walked over, until I was right in front of him. I lifted my shaking hand and placed it on Dave's chest; his skin was warm and smooth, and I liked how it felt. He just continued to look at me, not backing away, but not pushing either.

"Zac... you know you can trust me," he said softly. I nodded. I did know I could trust him; it was myself I couldn't trust.

"Please, Zac. Talk to me." Dave placed his hand over mine, his eyes pleading. Whether it was the spark of electricity that ran through me when his hand touched mine, or the way my heart stopped as I stared into his eyes, I knew then that I had to be honest. Truly honest, with him and with myself.

"I'm scared," I heard myself say.

"Of what?"

"Of what'll happen. Of what I want. Of how I feel."

"How **do** you feel?" His eyes were probing mine, and he gave my hand a supportive squeeze, telling me everything would be alright.

"I don't know, I..." I sighed heavily. A voice in the back of my head screamed at me to just tell him the truth.

"Part of me thinks what we did before is wrong. Like, sinning, going-to-hell wrong. And another part is telling me it was just because my head is all screwed up cuz of Tay. And another part is saying..." I licked my lips; my mouth was dry as the Sahara.

"Another part is saying that I want to do more. I think... I think I might like you. Like, _like_ you like you. I don't know. I've never _like_ liked anyone, so I don't know how it's supposed to feel. What we've done so far was, well great, but it felt like there was something, I don't know, missing. Like a missing piece to a LEGO set; it still looks cool, but it's not quite right."

Dave smirked at my analogy, and I smiled back nervously. I was terrified of what I'd just admitted; thinking it was one thing, but saying it out loud made it real.

"Zac, I think I like you too. I didn't want to tell you before, because I was so afraid if I did, you'd..." Dave broke off there, his eyes suddenly misting. Instinctively, I pulled him into a hug, my hand staying on his chest, while my other arm wrapped around his shoulders. He returned the embrace, and gently rubbed his hand up and down my back for a minute.

"So, now what?" I asked. I had no idea, but I trusted Dave.

* * *

_Dave_

I pulled back to look at Zac. He looked so determined, and yet fragile.

"Can I kiss you?" I couldn't believe I'd had the courage to ask him that. I held my breath, but after a moment, he nodded, and smiled nervously. My heart fluttered; I couldn't believe this was happening. I gently stroked his cheek, running my thumb over his lips; he gently kissed it, then looked up at me through half-closed eyes. My body reacted with alarming speed; I couldn't believe he could turn me on so much just by looking at me.

Nerving up, I brought my face to his, gently pressing our lips together. Neither one of us moved at first; it wasn't my first kiss, but I had a feeling it was probably his. I was about to pull away, when he finally began to react. Slowly, tentatively, he began to move, to return the kiss. I could have died right then.

I felt his arm on my shoulder move down, his hand smoothing over my back. I wrapped my arm around his waist; my other hand was still holding his other hand to my chest. I was certain he could feel my heart pounding a mile a minute. I couldn't help myself, and I let out a half-sigh, half-moan, instantly regretting it.

I felt his lips curl into a smile, but he didn't pull away just yet. We held each other there for another moment or two, before finally separating. I couldn't open my eyes; I couldn't face him yet. I was too afraid of the rejection I was sure I would see.

When I finally gathered the courage to look at him, he was smiling nervously. I could feel the tension; I could see it in his eyes. He looked like a scared rabbit, about to bolt any second. I ran my hand up and down his back soothingly. To my surprise, he pulled me back and kissed me. It was hesitant at first, but slowly he grew more confident.

I squeezed his hand against my chest, and wrapped my other arm around him tighter. He held me tighter, too, kissing me just a bit harder. In between kisses I went to lick my lips; but he moved too quick, and my tongue brushed against his lips instead. He jumped back ever so slightly, but only for a moment. I decided to push the envelope and press my tongue against his lips; tentatively, he opened his mouth, and our tongues swirled against each other.

Just when I didn't think it could get any better. My arm was like a vice grip around him now, and likewise his arm around me, as we explored each other's mouths. I moaned; I couldn't help myself. The vibrations must have felt good, because a second later Zac echoed the pleasureful sound. My eyes rolled back in my head; it was too much, too good, my brain couldn't process it.

Finally we broke apart, staring intensely into each other's eyes, panting for breath. I decided to let instinct take over, and dropped my head to his shoulder, planting kisses up and down his neck. He began to shiver, and when I dragged my tongue from his collar bone to his ear, he moaned loudly, clutching my back, scratching a bit. An animalistic groan escaped me, and Zac's head whipped around.

"Do that again," he said breathily, his eyes wide. I smirked at him and growled, relishing the look on his face as I did so; his eyes rolled back, and he bit is lip hard. I went back to kissing his neck, and even his earlobes, first one side, then the other.

My dick was so hard it was painful, but I hadn't really noticed; not until Zac's hand accidentally brushed against the large tent in my boxers. I inhaled sharply, and Zac looked at me, possibly worried he'd hurt me. I stared at him, pleading.

"Please, Zac," I begged him. How low was I, begging? But he just smiled, and within seconds my boxers were on the floor, and Zac was stroking me fast and hard as we made out. I yanked his boxers down so I could return the favor. As I began to jerk him off, I got an idea. I pulled away from him, and God bless him, he actually whimpered a bit.

"Do you trust me?" I asked. He didn't answer at first; he seemed to be a bit dazed, not that I blamed him.

"I trust you." 

I smiled, and kneeled on the floor in front of him. He looked nervous, but he wasn't stopping me, so I decided to go for it. Without any warning, I began to lick his dick like it was an ice cream cone. Zac slapped a hand across his mouth just in time to (mostly) silence the loud moan that escaped him. I was actually surprised at the taste; it was a little salty, a little sweet, and somehow unmistakeably Zac. I loved it, wanted to get as much as I could. I took his head in my mouth and sucked gently, eliciting another moan. I knew we were probably being too loud, but I didn't care any more.

I tried to take more of him in my mouth. I started to gag a bit, but once I figured out how to time my breathing, I got further and further, until my nose was pressed against his abs. I felt him tangle his fingers in my hair, pulling sharply; I winced, but at the same time it felt amazing. I reached down and began stroking myself furiously. Before long, Zac's noises of pleasure reached a peak.

"Oh fuck, Dave, I'm gonna..."

"Mhm," I managed to moan around him.

"FUCK!" Zac's nails dug into my back, and I moaned hard; the vibrations must have gone straight through Zac's prick, because he swore again. I suddenly felt warm streams of liquid shooting straight down my throat; I didn't even have to swallow. That was enough to send me over the edge, as I shot my load all over my hand and the floor.

When my vision cleared I looked up at Zac, thinking he was the most beautiful thing I'd ever laid eyes on. But when I saw his face, my world came crashing down. He was crying. Not tears of joy, those were mine; I felt them streaming down my sweaty cheeks, but didn't care enough to wipe them away. No, Zac was sobbing uncontrollably, his face twisted in... what? Pain? Guilt? Regret? Somehow it looked like all three.

I moved to touch him, but he jerked away. I sat back, grabbing a washcloth and cleaning up, not sure what to do. When I tried again to comfort him, he jerked away again, his face turned away from me. I stood there, watching as his tears slowly subsided. When he finally calmed down, I tried for a third time to touch him, but again, he shied away.

"Zac?" My voice was quiet, pleading. I didn't know what to do. He shook his head.

"I'm fine, just... just don't touch me, okay?" 

I nodded, hurt and confused, but more concerned than anything else. I watched as he got dressed quickly, staring at the floor. As soon as he was done he started to leave the bathroom, stopping in the doorway; he kept his face turned away as he spoke.

"I'm gonna go to bed now, ok? I'll see you in the morning." He left without waiting for a response, the door clicking shut behind him. 

I stood there long after he'd left, tears falling again. But this time, there was no joy, only pain.


	5. Chapter 5

_Scott_

I stared at the clock, its numbers glowing red as sin. It was 9:30, the sun was down, and the sky outside my window was a deep indigo. I had managed to crawl back to bed at some point, but sleep escaped me. Oh well, time to get up anyway; I had a gig in an hour.

I dragged myself to the bathroom; twenty minutes later, after a quick shower, I stared at the pile of clothes near my dresser. I picked through and found a black tank top and a pair of camo pants; my favorite shit-kicker boots completed the outfit. I grabbed my guitar and headed out, locking the door behind me.

I took a deep breath as I stepped out into the cool night air; the smells of New York City filled my nostrils, some pleasant, some not so much. It was becoming my home now, though, and I loved it. I'd started renting the small apartment a few months ago. I earned my living playing dirty bars and seedy clubs; it wasn't glamorous, but at least I was making music.

I started the ten block walk, guitar strapped against my back. It was always noisy here, which was exactly the way I liked it. I didn't like silence; it left too much room for thought, and that was never a good thing. For me, thought always led to memories, and they always led to pain.

Over the years I'd worked hard to numb myself, to try to ignore the pain, forget it existed. For a while, I'd looked to drugs for comfort, but that hadn't lasted long. They messed with my ability to play, and if I couldn't play there was no point in living. Alchohol worked well enough, as did the not-so-occasional one night stand, but even those escapes were fleeting. The pain always came back eventually.

A taxi pulled over to let out its passengers; music drifted from the open door, catching my ear and pulling me from my thoughts. I stopped to listen, the tune sounding familiar. When the vocals began, though, they shocked me. I knew that voice.

_I'm lookin' for a song to sing and,_  
I'm looking for a friend to borrow.   
I'm lookin' for my radio,   
So I might find a heart to follow.   
I never been just longing for your lovin,   
I never been just wearing down to nothin,   
I never been just lookin for a reason,   
So that maybe you'd be thinkin of me.

_Damn._

The door shut, and the taxi drove off, taking the song with it. Running a shaking hand through my hair, I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I trudged onward, shoving my hands in my pockets. I couldn't afford to do this right now, especially right before a show; I had to keep my head clear, or else... There were only a few times I'd broken down on stage. Sometimes it worked, depending on the song and the crowd, but usually it was just embarrassing. It pissed me off that I couldn't control my own emotions. I was a grown man, for god's sake.

"You're late!" the bar manager barked at me. I flipped him off as I made my way to the stage; we both knew it didn't matter. People came here to get wasted; they could care less if the background noise started a few minutes behind schedule. I took a seat and adjusted the mic, staring into the crowd; most of them weren't paying attention, but a few were. I swallowed hard, still a bit shaken.

_Bury it. Turn it off. Focus on the music._

I nodded once, and began to play.

 

* * *

 

_Dave_

I smiled nervously as I watched Zac inhale his third burrito. We'd talked a bit in the car, but food had taken priority over conversation, apparently. After finishing his meal, Zac sighed and sat back, a satisfied grin on his lips.

"So, what else have you been up to?" Zac asked, licking a stray drop of sauce from his lip. I began to tell him about the attempt at going solo, the modeling, the Canadian Idol experience; through it all he sat quietly, smiling and nodding, throwing in small comments here and there. I debated how much to tell him, and decided on complete honesty.

"I, uh... I came out. Back in 2002." I waited for a response, but got nothing but a nod.

"I think that's part of why the band fell apart. Dad, well, he didn't take the news too good. Told me it was just a phase, that I was confused, that I'd grow out of it. He actually tried to force me out on dates with random chicks."

"That's stupid," Zac said, his face wrinkled in distaste. "You are what you are, you can't change that. I can't stand people like that. I'm sorry, man."

"It's cool." I was pleasantly surprised at how well Zac took the news. But considering everything we'd been through in the past, it probably wasn't really a surprise for him.

"So, you got a boyfriend?" His blunt question caught me a bit off guard, and I eyed him carefully, unsure how to proceed.

"No, not really. I mean, I've dated, but they just weren't... right." I felt myself blush, and looked away, afraid he would somehow hear my inner thoughts. His eyes always did seem to see through me, straight to my inner self.

"So, what about you?" I asked back.

"Yea, right," Zac snorted in response. I looked at him, puzzled, and he sighed.

"I've had a few girlfriends, but none of them worked out for long. They all expected me to be crazy hyper Zac, which I am, but not all the time. Either that, or they couldn't deal with how random I can be. I guess none of them really got me, ya know?" Zac sighed again, and I nodded; in the short time I'd known Zac, I had realized just how complex of a person he was, so much more than people gave him credit for.

"Ah well, who needs 'em. Bros before hoes, right man?" Zac laughed, and I joined him, bumping his fist with mine.

"So you still a gamer, or what?" Zac asked. I nodded, and Zac launched into a tirade about the latest games he'd played, and why Modern Warfare was way better than Call of Duty, and what was wrong with Pokemon Black and White. I was glad for the distraction, but before long I was finding it difficult to concentrate. All I could think about was how good Zac looked, and how much I'd missed him.

"Dave? Daa-aave... Earth to Dave, come in!"

"Huh? Wha- oh, sorry man." I grinned sheepishly, but Zac just laughed and knocked me on the head, not hard enough to hurt.

"I said, you should ditch the hotel and just crash at my place. I could hook up the N64 and kick your ass at Super Smash Brothers."

"Excuse me?" I laughed. "I distinctly remember beating you once or twice, thank you very much." I grinned smugly, and Zac laughed back and stood, tossing out our trash.

"In your dreams, man. I'm the king of all games, remember?" He threw an arm around my shoulders as we left the restaurant, and I felt myself blush.  _Get a grip, buddy._  I shook my head and laughed at myself as I got into Zac's car. As the engine roared to life, music blared from the speakers; it was a track from Hanson's fourth album.

"Oh, sorry dude," Zac said quickly, and moved to turn it off. I reached forward and stopped his hand; for a moment neither of us moved, my hand gently resting on his. I thought I felt his fingers brush mine, but I mentally shrugged it off, and took my hand back.

"It's cool, you can leave it. I like this song."

Zac smiled, and I thought I saw him blush a little, but he looked away to check his blind spot before I could be sure. I sighed and looked out the window, smiling lightly; this song had always reminded me of him

"When you're crazy, cuz you're crazy beautiful," I sang quietly, and I heard Zac laugh lightly. I looked at him out of the corner of my eye, and he was smiling at me, shaking his head. I smirked, and sang a bit louder.

"So don't go looking in my eyes tonight. So don't go telling me likes tonight. So don't go promising the stars tonight, when you're crazy."

"Cuz you're crazy beautiful, yea you're crazy beautiful." I smiled as Zac joined in, and we shared a laugh.

_Yea, you're crazy beautiful._

**Author's Note:**

> Those of you who remember me posting this on livejournal might notice some differences. I've improved a LOT since I first wrote this, and while I don't want to change the original style this was written in (because I painstakingly tried to emulate Aspen's original writing style), I will be trying to fix a few things. Nothing too drastic, but hopefully just fine-tuning and making it an overall better-written story. Hope you like it!


End file.
